


Across the Gap

by earlybloomingparentheses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Intergenerational Queer Sadness, M/M, Post-Lily and James' Deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlybloomingparentheses/pseuds/earlybloomingparentheses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sirius is sent to Azkaban, Remus mourns and Dumbledore remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Gap

Remus sits slumped in a chair in his empty, dark flat. He hasn’t eaten since—

No.

He shifts, resting his head in his hands.

Everyone is gone. Dead, or worse. And he—he is here, alone. Alone, truly, for the first time since childhood. Alone again, as he should have been all along.

Alone, and a fool.

His broken faucet drips, loud in the empty flat.

He is alone, and then—

A flash of light, suddenly; Remus barely registers it ( _Well, this is finally it, I suppose_ , he thinks dully); and then Albus Dumbledore is standing in his flat.

Remus looks up at him, unspeaking.

“Hello, Remus,” Dumbledore says. “I’ve brought lunch.”

Remus doesn’t grace that with a reply.

Dumbledore sets an overflowing basket of food on Remus’ table. Shepherd’s pie, Cornish pasties, cauldron cakes, scones, five kinds of chocolate. It’s been three days since Remus last ate, and still the smell makes him nauseous.

“You need to eat something,” Dumbledore says.

“No.”

The aged wizard barely blinks at Remus’ unprecedented rudeness. “Remus—”

“No.”

They look at each other in silence.

“Do you intend to starve to death?” Dumbledore asks, his tone mild, his eyes grave.

Remus shrugs.

“Remus, I know you are going through an impossibly painful time—”

“You know?” Remus interrupts, surprising them both. “What do you know, exactly?”

“I know what it is like to lose loved ones,” Dumbledore says calmly. “I have hardly lived this long without grief.”

“Loved ones.” Remus clenches his fist, digging his nails into his palm. “Yes, all right. _Loved_ ones—” He gives a great shudder. “But do you know—do you _know_ what it’s like when the person who killed those loved ones is your—you best friend, the man you trusted, the man you believed, more than, more than anything, was _good_ , and—and _loyal—_ do you, do you know what _that_ is like—”

“Yes.”

The word is spoken simply, Dumbledore’s blue eyes clear and his voice steady.

Remus falters.

Dumbledore is looking at him, not saying anything. For a moment, Remus wants to ask—when? Who? What does Dumbledore mean, _yes_?

But no, _no_ , this is Remus’ tragedy, Remus’ loss, nothing, _nothing_ compares to Sirius—to what Sirius—

“But you don’t know—do you know what it is when,” Remus draws a shaking breath, “when that man, the man you trusted, who killed your friends is, was,” tears spill out from Remus’ eyes, “is the first man—the only man—you ever loved, were _in love with_ , who loved you back, who kissed you, who promised—promised _everything_ —and then he—he—how can you, do you know how _that_ feels—”

“Yes,” Dumbledore says, and he is crying too.

Remus falls silent, shocked.

The two men gaze at each other, eyes blurring with tears, and across the gap that separates them, the gap of years and of divergent lives and sorrows, something hovers, something threads them together.

“When I was very young,” Albus Dumbledore says, “I fell in love with Gellert Grindelwald.”

And Remus has nothing, nothing, to say.

At least, he realizes, he’ll never be required to bring Sirius Black to justice.

“Please eat something,” Dumbledore says quietly. 

Remus reaches out and picks up a scone.


End file.
